


amendments

by atsoom



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Light Swearing, but really they’re just two bozos with misunderstandings, seijoh four may have a larger role later!, slight (very minimal) angst if you squint, “enemies” to lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-14
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 23:33:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28750752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atsoom/pseuds/atsoom
Summary: "They had graduated with their relationship teetering precariously on the intersection of friends and acquaintances and enemies, and without so much of an attempt to fix it, Oikawa had whisked himself away to Buenos Aires for four years."
Relationships: Oikawa Tooru/Reader
Comments: 7
Kudos: 67





	amendments

**Author's Note:**

> hey everybody! this is my first time posting anything that i’ve written before, but i’m hoping to use this chance and platform to get over my insecurities about my work a little :) hope you enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> your best friend iwaizumi betrays you by telling you that only your sworn frenemy oikawa can take you to and from your wisdom teeth extraction surgery

“I don’t believe it.”

“You don’t believe it or you _won’t_ believe it?” Iwaizumi’s amused voice lilts through your earphones as if he’s pleased with the aggravation he has caused you with the news that he’s delivered.

You scowl, sliding a returned book a bit too forcefully into the shelf and earning a couple of surprised (and annoyed) looks from the few lingering lunchtime patrons. Apologetically smiling, you finish reshelving the books on the library cart and push it out of the aisle, hissing into the microphone connected to your tangled wires, “You’re telling me that there’s no one—absolutely nobody else—that’s free on Saturday except for freaking _Oikawa Tooru_?” Your voice cracks at the name, voice escaping a pitch too high, and the head librarian on shift with you shushes you with a firm look.

With the empty cart parked in its rightful place, you scurry into the backroom to find some repetitive task to busy your hands with for the remaining thirty minutes until your lunch break. Iwaizumi chuckles and you can imagine his smug expression vividly, “Mattsun’s busy with work—apparently there’s a lot of people kicking the bucket these days—and Makki’s got an interview. Oikawa got back from Buenos Aires on Thursday, so his schedule’s the most free out of all of ours.”

You take a brief pause from stamping the stack of new releases, perking up at a sudden thought. “You don’t suppose I could go alone? I could take an Uber back home.”

Iwaizumi barks from the other end, voice rising at least fifty decibels from before, “You’re going to get in an Uber, high on meds and bleeding from the gums? Some creep could take advantage of you.”

“Jeez,” you slump in your chair again, rolling your eyes slowly, “You could have just said no.” A brief moment later, you grumble, “And for all we know, Oikawa might find this the perfect opportunity to axe murder me and dump my body in some reservoir.”

“Graphic,” Iwaizumi deadpans. “Look, kid, we all know he’s annoying but a good guy. Just grin and bear it for one day, hm?”

You sigh in defeat, slamming your fist onto the top of the library stamp, “Fine.”

“I’ll tell him to come by yours at 9.”

* * *

“What the hell is _this_ piece of junk?”

“Good morning to you too, princess,” Oikawa grins a little too cheerfully for the early hour, reaching across the passenger seat to push open the door from the inside.

You’re apprehensive about being seen in (let alone getting inside) the gaudy teal vehicle the man has strolled up to your apartment building in, but you really have no other choice but to. Thankfully, the inside has been reworked and appears relatively clean, seats covered in seemingly new white leather. You buckle your seatbelt slowly, all too wary of the way Oikawa’s looking at you.

“Who gets their wisdoms out at twenty-two?” The man teases as he pulls the gear shift from park into drive and starts to head out of the alley.

His flippant attitude doesn’t mix well with your lack of sleep and anxiety about the upcoming surgery, and you immediately scowl, curling into yourself in the seat and glaring out the window.

“Oh?” Oikawa hums, and out of the corner of your eye, you see him turn to you briefly. “Has our darling little Y/N mellowed out during the four years I haven’t seen her?”

“Shut up,” you bite back, “I’m just not a morning person.”

“Or maybe you’re nervous about getting your teeth pulled,” he says cheekily, craning his neck to the left to check his mirrors for a lane change.

You suddenly remember why you had (and still do) found him so irritating and unbearable back in high school. He seems to know your every thought and uses it to his advantage to annoy the absolute hell out of you.

“Shut up.”

Oikawa chortles but thankfully doesn’t say anything for the rest of the ride, choosing to hum to whatever Latin Pop playlist he’s put on instead. Even the walk inside to the dentist’s office is silent, punctuated briefly by Oikawa pausing to get a can of coffee from the vending machine as the two of you wait for the elevator.

The waiting room is full, which means that as soon as you sign in for your appointment, you’re seated closely on Oikawa’s right, tucking your shoulders and knees in to prevent bumping into his. He sips quietly at his coffee, eyes plastered to the TV on the wall that plays _Monsters, Inc_.

“Y/N? Please head in now.”

You stiffen, a chill creeping down your spine at the thought of being put under, of having your gums sliced open, of having your teeth broken and then pulled from your jaw. Still, in order to save face, you force yourself to stand and head over to where the assistant called your name, brushing past Oikawa’s knees slightly.

“You’ll be okay?” He smiles languidly, turning his head away from the movie, “Do you need me to come hold your hand?”

As you stalk straight into your doom, you click your tongue, unable to even give him a snarky quip.

“Good luck!” You hear him cheer as the door shuts behind you.

* * *

“L/N Y/N’s guardian?” Oikawa blinks up from his phone screen, dragging his attention away from the San Juan match that he’s been analyzing since the children’s movie ended. For a moment, his distracted mind buzzes in confusion until he realizes where he is and what he’s there for.

“Ah,” he raises his hand, pocketing his phone and making his way over to the reception desk. “That would be me.”

The door to the back of the office opens up, revealing an extremely sedated Y/N and the dentist’s assistant who took her away, withering under the weightless girl. Oikawa’s mouth curls up immediately at the sight, which he tries to hide behind a palm as he reaches to take the girl from the struggling assistant and sits her on the bench next to him. He watches Y/N as she slumps back, head banging against the wall with a thump loud enough to make him wince, but she doesn’t even react, staring lazily at the ceiling, cheeks close to bursting with gauze.

“Are you her boyfriend?” The receptionist smiles with a quirk of her eyebrow as she hands him an aftercare bag and types things into her computer for the follow up appointment.

Oikawa’s eyes widen, and he quickly turns to Y/N to see if she’s heard and will react vehemently to deny it. The girl merely drops her head to play with her fingers in her lap dopily, mumbling incoherent things to herself. “No, no,” he responds, huffing out a quick laugh, “We’re just friends from high school.”

The woman hums as if she’s unconvinced but doesn’t press further. She prompts him to schedule Y/N’s appointment for taking the stitches out, as Oikawa tilts Y/N’s face towards him gently to ask what days she’s free.

“Tooru!” She calls a pitch too high and a bit too loud but her eyes are crinkling, like the way he knows she does only when she’s truly happy. He blinks down at the girl incredulously; she just called him by his _first name_. Y/N has called the others as Hajime and Issei and Taka-kun, but he’s always been Oikawa to her.

 _Fuck_ , he feels like giggling like a schoolgirl, but that’s so embarrassing and he has to finish up at the dentist so he ignores the way his stomach does somersaults and pats the girl firmly on her shoulder. “Yes, that’s me,” Oikawa cracks a grin, “What days are you free next week? When do you have work?”

“Library,” she responds quietly, a complete shift from her previous outburst and he has to dip his head closer to hear. “Sunday to Friday. Ten to five.” Y/N shuts her eyes as if the question has drained her, but Oikawa pats her head in praise and settles for an appointment on the following Saturday, making sure to get a reminder card for the girl.

“Alright, you potato head,” he sighs as he winds his arm around Y/N’s waist, tugging hers around his shoulders, “Let’s get you home.”

It proves to be harder than he expected to walk Y/N back to his car, as she slumps against him and trips over every crack in the pavement. Oikawa huffs as he hoists the girl back up to get a secure grip on her, mumbling, “You gotta work with me here, princess.”

To which she just giggles.

 _Finally_ , he pushes her into the passenger seat, making sure to pull the seat belt over her properly before getting in behind the wheel. Oikawa hums to himself as he pulls up the directions to Y/N’s apartment, checking his jacket pocket to make sure that the key she gave him this morning is still there. He pats the girl’s head to grab her attention, “Ready to go?”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” she slurs, eyes shuttered as she clumsily salutes her fingers to her forehead. Her cheeks are already swelling and bruising.

 _Oh boy_ , Oikawa thinks.

They have only made it out of the parking lot, when Y/N calls, “Tooru…”

“Yes, Y/N?”

The girl pushes herself to sit up straight in her seat, staring intensely out of her window. “S’that McDonalds?” She points to a house with a bright yellow roof.

He can’t help but laugh this time. “That’s just a house, princess.”

Y/N’s lips jut out into a pout, and she looks at him with a watery gaze. “McFlurry,” she whines, rubbing at her eyes with loosely curled fists.

Oikawa briefly focuses on turning left at an intersection, turning his face away from Y/N and eliciting another whimper from the girl. “You can’t have a McFlurry,” he says, heart tugging at the way she looks absolutely distraught, “You’ll be hurting too much, Y/N.” Fortunately, it seems to have made sense in her loopy mind, and the girl slumps back into her seat, picking at her nails.

After a long silence, she finally mumbles, “You just don’t like me, Tooru.”

He startles, immediately turning to look at her. “That’s not true,” Oikawa insists softly, eyebrows furrowing. _Is that what she thinks?_

“Nuh uh,” she shakes her head petulantly, “You _hate_ me, and you always make fun of me.”

His breath catches in his throat, and his palms feel clammy. Oikawa knows he was arrogant and a brat back at Seijoh, but it had been because of his own faults and insecurities. Because he had hidden his fears of failure behind a mask. Iwaizumi had always told him off for not being genuine.

_“You never know who you might be driving away because of your fake ass attitude, Trashykawa.”_

_“Shut up, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa had stuck out his tongue at his best friend, emphasizing the childish nickname. “The only friend I need is you.”_

_“Don’t be stupid.”_

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The moment Iwaizumi had introduced Y/N as the new manager to the Aoba Johsai volleyball team in their second year, Oikawa had known that she would be someone special to him. The girl had been easy to like, polite to the third years, chummy with her fellow second years, and fond of the first years. She had been an anchor to their often dysfunctional group, pulling Kindaichi and Kunimi off of Karasuno’s first years when they purposely tried to pick fights, handing them water bottles and towels without them even needing to ask, patting each of the third years on the back on their last day of practice when they had been bawling their eyes out, not a single tear in her own.

Y/N had always been a precious friend to Oikawa, and as such, he hadn’t known how to treat her as one, worried that she would criticize him, sneer at him, _leave_ him if she knew how messed up he was on the inside.

“I don’t hate you,” he says hoarsely, wondering if he can ever manage to convince her, “But you hate me, don’t you?” Oikawa swallows, nervous for the answer.

Y/N glares at him, lips puffy as she says around the gauze stuffed in her mouth, “I don’t _hate_ you. I hate the way you make me _feel_.”

He blinks and says dumbly, “Oh.” _What the hell does that mean?_

“I hate that you always have your shit together,” she grumbles loudly, kicking her feet against the rubber mat under the seat, “How you’re working towards your dream and making things happen and going to Argentina…” Y/N goes quiet, which concerns him enough to make him look away from the road to check. The girl stares hard into her lap, wringing her fingers together.

“I don’t have a dream,” she says soberly, voice so soft that he strains to hear it over the hum of the engine.

Oikawa thinks back hard, digging through his memories of Seijoh, what the five of them used to talk about when they spared the moment to be serious. “That’s not true,” he repeats, firmer this time, “You love books and languages. The library’s perfect for you.”

Y/N’s eyes flash with pain, but it’s gone before he can recognize it accurately. Maybe he imagined it. The girl shakes her head gently, and the conversation ends there. She tucks her head away against the window for the rest of the car ride.

He thinks the entire rest of the way, wondering where his friendship with Y/N had gone wrong. When they first met, they had been cordial with one another, walking side-by-side to lunch, chatting about classes, sharing meat buns at the convenience store after practice. At a certain point, Oikawa had fallen into the comfortable habit of teasing Y/N, aiming right at the places that would make her squirm, and he guesses that’s when the girl had lost her affection for him. They had graduated with their relationship teetering precariously on the intersection of friends and acquaintances and enemies, and without so much of an attempt to fix it, Oikawa had whisked himself away to Buenos Aires for four years.

Now that he’s back in Japan for the holidays, he vows to make things right again. 

* * *

**iwaizumi hajime**

_hajime_ : Everything went well?

 _tooru_ : yup. she was really loopy after but she’s sleeping now.

 _hajime_ : You can head out if you need to. I’m only five minutes away.

Oikawa glances at the time, closing the volleyball match he’s been watching on his phone for the past hour. From his seat at Y/N’s desk, he peers over to the girl, finding her sleeping restlessly, face scrunched up in pain. As much as he’d like to stay and watch her reaction when she wakes, he has a lunch with the Aoba Johsai coaches to attend soon.

**iwaizumi hajime**

_tooru_ : gotta leave to meet with the coaches for lunch :/

 _tooru_ : i’ll leave y/n’s keys under the doormat

Hovering over Y/N’s bed, Oikawa wonders if he should rouse her and let her know that he’s leaving, but he catches sight of her phone on the nightstand and finds himself scheming with a wide grin instead. It’s locked with a four digit password, and it takes all of two attempts for him to make it in.

He chuckles to himself and taps away. 

* * *

The pain wakes you up before Iwaizumi does, and you groan as your jaw, your cheeks, your head pounds with every heartbeat. You’re snuggled into your blankets in your own room, and you secretly praise Oikawa for bringing you back in one piece.

Reaching for your phone, you spy a little appointment card and the goodie bag from the dentist placed next to it on the nightstand. You punch in your passcode, and your phone unlocks straight into the notes app, where a message has been left.

_**FOR Y/N, NOBODY ELSE’S EYES CAN READ THIS** _

_your appointment to take the stitches out is next week saturday, 11am. rinse your mouth with salt water every two hours, and only soft foods and water for 24 hours! hydrate yourself but NO STRAWS!!! don’t forget to take your pain medicine too. i think that’s all the dentist needed me to tell you._

_p.s. you should really change your password from your birthday lol_

_p.p.s. you’re much cuter when you’re high on meds hehe_

_p.p.p.s. i can drive you next week too if you need_

_p.p.p.p.s. let’s get coffee sometime?_

_p.p.p.p.p.p.p.p.p.s. ok last one for real. i changed my number when i went to argentina so idk if you have the right one: (xxx) xxx-xxxx_

_-tooru ❤️_

You can’t help but smile at the endearing note. Maybe he had grown up since graduation after all.

After you check a text from Iwaizumi that says he’s currently in your living room with every flavor of pudding he could find at the convenience store, you sit up to crawl out of bed, exiting out of the messaging app.

Only to see that your home screen background has been changed into a close-up selfie of _Oikawa_ , who sticks his tongue out at the camera in a feral grin, poking his fingers up in a peace sign. Your smile immediately wipes away into a scowl, and you grumble under your breath.

“Damn you, Oikawa Tooru.”


End file.
